Chapter Text
Despite the lack of free time he once had, being chief of Berk wasn't really as stressful as he'd once thought. Helping others was always what he'd tried to do, and continued to try. Stubbornness was a Viking trait, after all. His constant screwing up made his peers notice him, though not in the best of ways. He'd been Hiccup the Useless for a long time. It made him laugh how he had gone from being the worst Viking anyone had ever seen to becoming chief of Berk. Really, his success with the dragons was owed entirely to Toothless, his Night Fury.
Becoming chief hadn't exactly been achieved under the best of circumstances, but he would have had to accept the responsibility eventually. His own stubbornness and pride had cost Berk so much grief. He assumed his father's role after defeating Drago with the help of his most loyal friend- Toothless. He still enjoyed spending time at the forge with Gobber, though. His free time was usually spent there or with Astrid when they went flying with Toothless and Stormfly. Nights were spent at home with his mother and Astrid.
He had gotten many knowing looks from his mother over the weeks since becoming chief, but she was gracious and said nothing. At the moment, he was at the forge, sharpening Astrid's beloved axe. Because she always looked so lovely with it, he kept it sharp and in working condition. His first memories of Astrid have featured an axe. She was great with them. They may not kill dragons on Berk any longer, but they did need to protect themselves and their dragons.
He had come to accept the affection and sometimes scathing words that Astrid provided for him. She was loyal, beautiful, and so very wonderful. He loved that she didn't hesitate to call him out on his nonsense. He loved every kiss she pressed to his cheek, he loved that she wouldn't hesitate to use her charm and skill to persuade him to do pretty much anything she wanted him to do. He had laughed when Eret had confessed exactly how she had gotten him to cooperate with her and the others. Astrid was Astrid, after all. He wouldn't change anything about her, not even the roughness and harsh words she'd had for him in the past. She was Astrid, and he loved her. He always had, and he always would. And she looked lovely, even wielding her axe.